


And Still the Rain Poured

by Ranae_des_Roses



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Post-MWPP, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 06:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ranae_des_Roses/pseuds/Ranae_des_Roses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Desolate and alone, Remus and Sirius long for the love they shared before everything went horribly wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Still the Rain Poured

Remus sighed wearily, shaking the water from his hair and closing the door behind him. He shed his overcoat and collapsed on the couch, exhausted.

Another day of fruitless job searching gone.

He drew his wand and lit a fire in the grate, and then buried his tired face in his hands.

Why did the fates hate him? Why did they curse his name and spit on his existence?

Pushing the dreadful question of whether he would be able to eat tomorrow or not out of his mind, he leaned back against the pillows and thought of a better time. A time of laughter and reckless carefree days… a time of good friends and beautiful love.

A time before things had gone so terribly wrong.

Gods have mercy upon him, he missed Sirius. Even knowing that he was a traitor to them all and had murdered his best friends, he loved him still. And as he sat there, jobless and nearly dirt poor, he wished for Sirius’s comforting presence, his warm embrace, his soft murmurings of love and sugar-spun worlds.

He ached for his love and wept.

And still the rain poured.

 

* * *

 

Within a dark and dingy cell in Azkaban, Sirius sat hunched on his bench, his long tangled hair draping in a curtain over his face. He stared bleakly at the grey stone floor—everything here was in shades of grey.

The days all ran together in this godforsaken hellhole. Just a mass of bleak and bleeding grey, with nothing but the coldest, darkest memories to keep him company.

Oh, how he longed for the days of color, when life was full of light and warmth and brilliant hues. The days when he was never alone, when he gave and received freely, when he danced in the glorious sunlight and romped in the iridescent moonlight… the days when his flower of love blossomed more beautifully each day.

If only he could remember those days.

Some days, when he was sane enough to focus, he could call to mind an image of Remus. And by the celestial heavens above, he missed him so much. When the chill seeped into his bones and into his soul, he remembered his gentle touches, his soothing voice, his beautiful smile and lovely eyes. And the dementors could not take these thoughts from him, for they were bittersweet; it seared his soul to know that Remus thought him a spy, a double-crosser, a traitor to his love.

He ached for his love and wept.

And still the rain poured.


End file.
